


On a Sinking Ship

by elke



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drama, Gay, Headcanon, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elke/pseuds/elke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larry Stylinson / Romance / Third person<br/>Will be multi chaptered + possibly explicit in future chapters.</p><p>Since the very beginning people would always claim the pair as inseparable, and maybe that was the issue. The two try to keep their distance, as Louis fights being outed with a fool-proof plan to stage a proposal to his 'girlfriend' Eleanor. That ought to get the media on his side.<br/>However Harry is battling with stardom too, feeling trapped and alone without the support of his 'maybe boyfriend' any more. Being back in London with the boys is bringing back memories of the band's beginnings,  and all of the silly promises he and Louis made to run away some day were looking more and more tempting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boys in Bubble Baths

Life on the road was hard, even being back in London for a week the band were still doing concerts almost every night, still bombarded by fans, recording, doing ‘business’.  
Harry sighed as he stepped into the dreamy extra bubbly bath he’d just prepared. Candles threw shadows across the bathroom and flickered against the white tiles, giving the room an almost romantic glow. Why not treat himself now that he wasn't stuck in that god awful tour bus? He loved the boys dearly but god did they all smell awful after a show. He let his shoulders sink into the bubbles felt himself ease up a little. It had been a long time since he’d relaxed; especially with how extraordinarily tense it had been between the boys lately. Well, mainly between Louis and Harry. People had always described the two as inseparable before, and that was exactly the issue. Having been separated, neither of them knew where they stood with the other any more.  
They always had a way of knowing what the other was thinking without saying it, a way of communicating with gentle touches when speaking wasn't allowed, and eye contact when touching wasn't allowed. And now neither of them could bring themselves to look at the other one for too long without the overwhelming sense of guilt.  
Harry pulled back his long, brunette curls into a bun, the ends were already damp. He picked his phone up from the side of the bath tub, ready to put on some relaxing music, to take his mind off of things. It wasn't like him to be so serious, he seemed to be frowning all of the time lately, and forcing smiles. This adolescent boy band thing was ageing him.  
It was just fate that his phone happened to ring in his hand the second after he picked it up, and he probably would have ignored it had he not been holding it right at that moment, had it not said ‘Louis Tomlinson’ in the caller ID.  
His guts ached a little, his heart skipped a little. Louis never had a reason to phone Harry these days, they were either always around each other and the rest of the boys, or just trying to keep their distance.  
He accepted the call either way.  
“Hello” his voice sounded more cheerful than it felt.  
“um, Hazza hi. So, this is kind of awkward but I felt like I needed to tell you before you heard from someone else.”  
The voice on the other end of the phone was definitely Louis, but a more panicked, slightly upset and rushed version of Louis, and this made Harry worry more than anything. His mind jumped from one conclusion to the next. What could possibly be wrong in order for Louis to phone him after weeks of barely making eye contact and shuffling past each other.

“...go on” Harry made sure not to sound too desperate.  
“Seeing as we’re in London it’s like, I don’t know, the perfect opportunity for Eleanour photo shoots, and you know, since I made a complete ass of myself in the media recently, a cover up is much needed.”  
“You’re phoning me to tell me you’re going out to take photos with your beard whilst you’re in London? I could have guessed that, Louis.” He didn't mean to sound so snappy.  
“Management have suggested that we... I , stage a proposal.” 

Harry’s heart stopped, he nearly dropped his phone into the water below him. It was suddenly like he was very aware of his hand holding his phone and he could just let go and it would just - plop! - be gone. He could forget this stupid conversation. He could feel the colour run out of his face; he probably looked as pale as Niall. He wondered if the other boys already knew about this. It wouldn’t surprise him.  
“I guess it was going to happen sooner or later.” Harry shrugged, trying to look somewhat calm, even though the other boy couldn't see him.  
“I – I honestly don’t know what I was expecting to hear, I just... thought I’d let you know.” The voice that sounded like Louis, but not quite, was stumbling over itself and paused and sounded disappointed.

“Well thanks”  
“Harry, I- ..”  
Harry looked down at the water and pulled his arm toward him creating a small ripple effect as his arm emerged out. He looked at all of the tattoos, they calmed him down in a way. They were memories, and promises, and encouragements. He imagined Louis looking at his own tattoos, and hoped he felt the same, and not regret.  
The line was silent but the phone call was still packed with tension, it was the kind of silence that spoke volumes. Words that couldn't be processed or said out loud. Forbidden.  
“I’m sorry.” The familiar stranger’s voice whispered.  
“So am I.”  
Harry hung up and slunk further into the bath tub. He took a deep breath and scrunched up his face before plunging himself into the water. It was all he could think to do to stop himself from crying.  
Everything sounded different under water, he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or if there really was a knocking at the door. He emerged from the water and gasped for air just in time for the knocking to start up again, this time un-muffled and solid. He stood up and hung a towel around his waist ready to answer the door.

Louis stood there, phone in hand. He looked tired and worn out. He wore a loose green hoody, it drowned him and made him look smaller than he actually is. His brown hair was pushed back in a scruffy fashion and his blue eyes looked drained and grey, sitting on top of dark bags.  
Harry was suddenly extremely aware of his nakedness. How could someone who was so familiar to him feel like such a stranger? He wasn't sure whether to hug the shorter boy, or slam the door in his face.

“I was in the bath.” Harry pointed toward the bathroom, not knowing what else to say, and now feeling extremely awkward.  
“I gathered.” Louis said, eyes darting down toward Harry’s towel.  
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him without asking and Harry didn’t know what else to do but wander back into the bathroom and closed the door slightly, leaving a gap.  
“We can speak through the door” he stepped back into the now lukewarm bath and sat down.  
Louis plonked himself down very ungracefully in front of the bathroom door. Yet another boundary set between them.  
Louis couldn't help ask himself, since when was it this hard to speak to someone you love?

“Harry, I won’t do this engagement thing if you don’t want me to. I mean, I know we’re not technically... together but I know that –“  
“We've never technically been together according to our managers. I don’t see how it makes a difference if you do or don’t.”  
“I mean it’s a big thing” Louis bargained.  
“It is a big thing” Harry agreed, “a big thing indeed, a big lie. But you know, what isn’t a big lie in this band?”  
“Us.” Louis whispered.  
“I beg to differ” Harry groaned, his voice bouncing off the tiled walls and sounding echo-y from the outside where Louis sat fiddling his hands and trying to think of something to say.”  
“Can I come in?”  
“I’m naked!”  
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, Jesus Christ, Hazza!”  
“Fine” Harry tried to hide his smile, visions were floating around his head of the old times. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t like that anymore, but he still felt a little giddy as Louis pushed the door open.  
He started to take off his shoes and socks, and then his shirt and his trousers and -  
“Woah, what are you doing?”  
“There’s room for two” Louis smiled, his crinkly eyed Louis smile that Harry had missed so much. The way he smiled was like nothing else in the world. It reminded Harry of how strange it was - missing someone when they’re right next to you.  
Louis finally pulled off his underwear and Harry shuffled over to make room for him in the bathtub.  
“This is a bit not straight, Louis Tomlinson” he teased.  
“I am, in fact, straight” Louis teased back.  
“Well, no one will need convincing of that when you’re married.”  
“Woah, woah, woah! Who said anything about married?” Louis’ voice had just gone up an octave.

Harry crossed his arms on the side of the bath tub and rested his chin on his arms, pouting. Louis couldn't take his eyes off of the boy. He’d changed so much since they first met. His hair was long, and pulled back into a bun. Not a hint of his cheeky smile. Tattoos ran up and down his arms, ones that they had contemplated and promised together. They were going to be free song birds one day.  
You could practically hear Harry’s pout as he spoke. “Engagement kind of suggests marriage, Louis.”

He turned to face the shorter boy, noticing the big “It Is What It Is” tattoo across his chest he automatically forgot what he was about to say and reached out to touch it. His fingers brushing over the other boys chest like it was the most familiar thing in the world to him. He just wanted to lay on that chest again and fall asleep to the beat of Louis’ heart. He just wanted to plant tiny kisses and hidden love bites all over his chest and hip bones again.  
Louis seemed confused at first but then his face did that thing, he looked at Harry as though he was the one who hung the moon in the sky. Utter adoration.  
So much has changed but some things were still the same.  
Harry’s green puppy dog eyes locked onto Louis’ icy ones.  
and all of the tension in the room melted as they burst into laughter, splashing each other and putting bubbles in each other’s faces.  
Harry cupped some bubbles in his now pruning hands and put them on Louis’ chin. With a smug expression, he exclaimed “Nice beard, Louis!”  
It wasn't until the bath was freezing cold and their stomachs were sore from laughing so hard that they’d realised they’d smothered all of the candles with their childish splashing, and practically flooded the whole bathroom, drenching Louis’ clothes in the process.

Harry picked them up and hung them over the radiator, and then laid down way too many towels on the bathroom floor to soak up all of the aftermath.  
He got changed into some boxers and a shirt and offered Louis to look through his clothes to see if there was anything he wanted to change into whilst his clothes dried, as he was currently standing in a bath robe and looking extremely cold and sorry for himself.  
They didn't plan to spend the night together, it just kind of happened.  
They avoided the subject of Eleanor, and engagement, and just talked and talked all night. They reminisced about plans they’d made, the real ones and the ones they both knew would never happen- like running away if it all got too much. It all got too much a long time ago but they were still sticking around, but it was fun for them to pretend they had a choice in the matter. Both of them had to work hard to keep the conversation steady, and not turn it into angst, or into an argument. It had been a long time since they’d spoken about their feelings, everything that was unsaid floated above their heads, creating a strange atmosphere. It was like nothing even needed to be said. A desperate ‘I still love you’ would not change this situation. Anything on the tip of their tongues just melted away and it was better off that way. Their bodies were so close it felt like they were one, like it was the most natural thing to be together. Not in the usual, tearing each other’s clothes off desperately in the heat of the moment kind of way, and not in the more recent, brushing shoulders and trying to avoid eye contact way either. They were connected. It wasn't long before their eyes got heavy; Louis rested his head on Harry’s chest. His hair was still damp but neither of them minded. Harry rested his hands on Louis’ back and breathed slowly. Their inhaling and exhaling; rhythmic and in tune with one another. Harry fell asleep happily to the familiar smell of his ex boyfriend, his maybe boyfriend, his rogue. Louis drifted off shortly after, head still on Harry’s chest, his arms stretched up, fingers intertwined in his still damp, curly hair, he knew this meant that it would be extra curly and all over the place in the morning. It was just a shame that he wouldn't be able to stick around in the morning to tease Harry about it. He had a proposal to make.


	2. Boys with bumps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis_Tomlinson : Still In My Heart.

He was Harry Styles on stage, the womanizer, the heart breaker. Girl’s queuing up to see him sing a song and thrust his hips, prance around on those long legs of his and pour water over himself mid-song.  
Hazza in the headlines. What’s Hazza done now, who’s Hazza from 1D seeing, find out on page four. Who’s Hazza’s new mystery girl? As if they knew him. 

But in bed with his arms wrapped around his lover, it was always hushed tones whispering ‘Harold’ into his ear. Giggling ‘Harold’ under the covers, teasing and kissing and knocking down those carefully placed barricades in private.

He expected to be awoken by that familiar pet name, a soft, warm voice whispering gently to bring him out of his slumber. Instead he blinked himself awake as his phone buzzed aggressively on the bedside table. He stretched out in his surprisingly empty bed, noticing a distinct lack of Louis, who he was ever so sure had been there just seconds before.  
He reached for his phone to turn off the alarm and glanced around the room.  
Louis’ clothes had been removed from the radiator. A piece of paper flitted down from the bedside table like a moth with broken wings; it must have been underneath Harry’s phone. It was folded over so it looked blank at first, but Harry picked it up anyway and unfolded it. His tired green eyes scanning it over and over.

‘I’m sorry.  
LT’

 

He clumsily opened the draw on the bedside table, and threw the note into the draw without looking. The draw was practically bursting with notes and stationary.  
Whenever the boys had to rest their voices that meant it was notebook day. They were filled with doodles and inside jokes and phrases, tattoo ideas, and sometimes the odd ‘i love you’ along with everything from song ideas to food orders. Harry didn’t consider himself a hoarder, but these books all contained memories he wasn’t willing to part with just yet.  
His schedule today called for a radio show with Niall. It should be pretty light hearted, he thought. Scrolling through his contacts list, he selected Nialler.

“Harry! I was just about to call you.” His Irish accent was exaggerated with how rushed and urgent he sounded “Louis just phoned me and he’s had a huge bollocking from management!”  
“What, why?” Harry’s face flushed with guilt.  
“Let’s just say we have to tip toe our way around this interview today, if anything about twitter is mentioned just backtrack as best as we possibly can.”  
“What did he do, Niall?” Harry asked, rubbing his temples to suppress the oncoming headache.  
“I dunno, Haz. I think he tweeted something not-so-straight, knowing the fans they probably saved it and posted it everywhere before it got removed by management, but apparently they’ve really cracked down on him.”  
There was an uncomfortable silence on the line.  
“So we’re gonna hafta lie to fans again.” Harry noted,  
“Looks like it.” Niall agreed.  
“He’s a tosser”  
“Did you two sleep together last night?”  
“No! No... oh god, is that what he tweeted?” Harry’s faced turned red instantly, he could feel the heat in his cheeks.  
“Well, no but he always gets sentimental after he gets some. It’s weird. What the hell is going on with you guys? I thought you were keeping your distance.”  
“You know he tweets cryptic before big events? Game changers? He came over last night to tell me he’s proposing to Eleanor.”  
“Shiiiiit.” Niall whispered down the phone.  
“Indeed.”  
“No wonder management is pissed.”  
“mm, so no mentioning tweets!”

Meanwhile, the culprit of this long since deleted tweet sat, slumped in the backseat of a car next to his ‘girlfriend’, avoiding eye contact. His eyes were in his lap. His head was hung with guilt, nodding every now and again whilst he was being talked at, rather than to.  
“Now, when you’re near the top of the London eye, you’re going to pull out the ring. The cameras will be able to just see you. It’ll be zoomed in and grainy, but that’s good because it won’t look staged. Afterwards you’re gonna want to kiss, and then when you’re exiting, Eleanor, you should probably reach up to adjust your hair, or put your hand near your face so that the ‘togs can get a decent shot of the ring. Are we clear?”  
The man in the front seat had already gone through this five times. Management were being extra strict today, and not too happy with Louis for obvious reasons. His tweet, which read ‘Still in my heart’ was taken down almost immediately after posting. Management were furious with his attempts to ‘sabotage’ the engagement, as they put it.  
“Right, shall we go then, love?” Louis chirped sarcastically, not looking at the girl.  
He hopped out of the car and ran around the side to open her door for her.  
He held her hand as they walked through London, and as much as he didn’t like to admit it to himself it felt good to be able to hold someone’s hand in public. Closeness and publicity were two things that were mutually exclusive to him.  
Even though the hand in his didn’t belong to the person he wanted it to, he looked straight ahead and only half faked a smile.  
Each step was a camera click. Each glance at each other is another hit on a website.  
He could practically see the headlines.  
Louis looked calm as a cucumber. Strutting down the street holding his girlfriends hand. Wearing a smart, black, button-up shirt and tight jeans. He had to tuck in his shirt because it was slightly to big for him, seeing as he’d stolen it from Harry’s closet this morning. It smelled like him.  
Eleanor had her game face on, pouting and strutting in line with her famous boyfriend. Knowing all the right directions to turn in so that it wouldn’t be obvious that she was acting. Her long brown hair resting on her shoulders. There was no denying she was beautiful, and smart. She’d been working this gig for over three years now. Her and Louis smiled and pouted and posed and then went their separate ways and management looked after the rest. Sure she got death threats, sure few hundred young girls despised her but she got money, and she got fame and clothes and she got to hold a cute boys hand and in her eyes she was doing him a huge favour. So what’s the harm if she gets to wear a ring on top of all of that, she thought to herself.  
It’s a shame not everyone could see it that way. Although there were the Elounour fans, she tweeted out to them that she and Louis were on a romantic date. In just few hours there will be an instagram photo of a ring on her perfectly manicured hand, online articles already and of course the pap’s photos.  
It had been ‘politely suggested’ by management that Louis dedicates a song to Eleanor tonight on stage, and that he makes an announcement. He was already feeling slightly nervous and uncomfortable, he could feel the ring burning a hole in his pocket and he felt sick.  
He proposed nearly at the top of the London eye. It seemed perfectly practiced, he hoped the cameras were far enough away not to see the shade of green he felt his face turn. His stomach hurt. This was not the way he wanted to propose, and this was not the person he wanted to be down on his knees in front of. 

The day seemed to drag in front of the boys until they were all in the dressing room, all feeling exhausted and under pressure, they could already hear screaming outside. Each of them wondering where the old days went when they would be hyping each other up. Louis, who would usually be shouting and laughing and filling the room with energy, looked wilted and done with everything. He was staring down at his hands in his lap like he was in a trance. Zane looked extremely concerned and walked over to comfort him. Harry looked everywhere but the two of them, trying to restrict his line of vision to one place. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes piercing. He looked as though he was trying to explode the whole room and everyone in it.  
Liam and Niall tried to lighten the mood by talking about funny things they were going to do on stage, lyric changes and dance routines. Their laughs sounded fake. Everyone in the room knew what was up. Everyone knew that in just a few minutes they’d all have to act like best mates on stage, joking and laughing and honestly that is what they all craved but that wasn’t the reality for almost any of them at this moment in time.  
The crowd were wild! They always were in London.  
The boys stood on stage waving to everyone, squinting into bright lights. Niall made a speech about how happy he was to be there and how lucky they all were, he thanked the fans and when it came to introducing the next song the small irish boy was interrupted by another voice.  
“Uh, I’d actually like to dedicate this next song to someone if that’s okay with you, lads.” He tried his hardest not to look at Harry, to keep a smile on his face. “This song is called Girl almighty and I’d like to dedicate it to my girl- my fiancé, Eleanor Calder.”  
The crowd screamed. Some boos, some cheers. The music started.  
Harry couldn’t focus his eyes. That was a shock to him to say the least. He knew Louis had already told him, and they weren’t actually boyfriends anymore, he supposed, so it wasn’t a complete betrayal on Louis’ part. But dedicating a song out of the blue. His head was pounding, the room began to spin. His voice was going on autopilot, he could probably have sung it in his sleep without paying attention but everything suddenly felt and sounded like he was under water. The song sounded like well rehearsed noises with no meaning to them at all. He stared into the crowd, a sea of arms, waving to and thro. He could feel the colour drench from his face, and he began sweating profusely. He felt like he was drowning, he wanted someone to come and pull him out of this unfamiliar sea of nerves.  
The world grew quieter, muffled under water sounds stopped. 

He woke up on a stretcher backstage.  
He could hear the boys singing.  
His head stung like hell.  
“Harry! Stay lying down for a second for me, don’t try to sit up just yet okay? You’ve just fainted but you hit your head on the stage. How do you feel?”  
“I feel like I’ve just hit my head on the stage.” Harry lied, it felt much worse.  
“I take it you didn’t have much time to eat today?” The nurse giggled. She was beautiful, with long brown hair and her cheeks matched her smile, but she looked too familiar for Harry’s liking. She looked like Eleanor.  
Harry ignored the nurse’s advice and sat up anyway, only to be greeted by a giant head rush that nearly knocked him backwards.  
“Woah woah! Be careful!” She giggled, handing him a glass of water. “We don’t want you fainting again.”  
“I wont.” Harry promised, “but I don’t think I should go back out on stage.”  
“No, I don’t think you should either, not tonight. Besides you’ve hit your head so you might be concussed, we might have to take you to hospital just to get you checked out.”  
“I’m fine.” Harry groaned. “I’m really okay, I just... don’t know what came over me. It felt like I was drowning, y’know?”  
He closed his eyes and pictured the waves of hands, he could hear the boys saying something to the audience above his head but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on what exactly they were saying. He could tell who was speaking by the muffled tones of his voices. He could hear Liam. Daddy Direction. He imagined him telling the crowd ‘Don’t worry, Harry will be fine.’ He pictured Niall promising to tweet after the show to update everyone.  
Harry couldn’t help but feel like he’d let everyone down. He pulled his curly brunette hair out of his face and tried his hardest to avoid further embarrassment by crying.  
“The boys are probably going to be finished in about half an hour but we need paramedics to come assess whether you need to go to hospital or not, if not someone can assist you back to where you’re staying earlier than the show finishes to avoid being mobbed by fans.”  
“I can tell you for sure I don’t have a concussion” He wished he had memory loss.  
“I can tell you for sure that you’re going to have a nasty bruise tomorrow.” She said, looking at the tender skin around his eye and forehead. “Just sit tight and we’ll get the paramedics to come check you over. Drink that water.” She demanded, pointing at the glass in Harry’s hands. He was staring down into it. He felt so stupid. Why had he fainted on stage? He sipped his water and thought about the impossible idea of running away. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but some day.  
He and Louis used to make all of these plans that would never happen, moving to Japan and getting a house together there, or buying a boat and sailing the seas. They always said ‘when one direction is over’ or ‘if it all gets too much’ but they knew deep down they could never leave the others, they’d break up the band and management simply wouldn’t allow it. But they were just harmless day dreams.  
But now Harry found himself seriously thinking about it. How would it all play out if he just went somewhere and turned off his phone and didn’t turn up to any of the planned events? He could do it you know; fall off the radar.  
The band’s resident womaniser wanders off to who knows where after fainting on stage, clearly he must have been drunk and now he’s on a rampage to drink beer and kiss women, watch out ladies. He’s tearing the band apart.  
Maybe he was concussed after all, but then maybe this was just what he needed. This was just a kick up the ass, an encouraging nudge to say he needed to get away for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Any events mentioned are entirely fictional. I do not claim to know any of the characters/people mentioned in this work.  
> Feedback and advice are greatly appreciated!! :0


End file.
